Bad Boy Blues

My body, stupid, stupid body hasn’t caught up at all. It still flashes with heat at his stare. The flashes I’ve been getting all evening, making me think that he knew where I was the entire time, like I did him.

Reaching them, I stand at the edge of their group.

“Hey, Cleo,” Ashley chimes in, wrapping her hand tightly around Zach’s arm.

Like she has something to prove.

I look away from her hand and focus on her face. “Hey.”

“Have you been avoiding us?”

“Something like that.”

“Come on,” she says with a mock frown. “We’re old friends.”

The group chuckles at that. I do, too.

That’s such a blatant lie.

“Yeah, definitely.”

“So aren’t you going to serve us, while we refresh your memory?”

I give her a look but then I step forward, kind of including myself in the group. Then, Ashley starts the introductions like I’ve never met them before.

“This is Samantha. But Ms. Bridges for you, of course.”

Ms. Bridges picks up a glass and giggles.

I want to pull out her tongue and wrap it around her throat just to get her to stop that high-pitched sound, but all I do is shoot her a tight smile. The sooner Ashley gets the satisfaction of humiliating me, the sooner I can get out of here.

Because her insults are not what’s getting to me. It’s him.

He’s getting to me.

Standing there like a dark, silent specter. A ghost from my past. I can feel the blast of his hot stare on me, watching me, watching for my reactions as Ashley reintroduces me to the group of people who made my life hell years ago.

And he’s not doing anything.

I could’ve stopped them with the flick of a hand.

Did you still love me?

Did you love me through all of that?

This is his response to my love.

He knows that I love him, and now he’s doing everything he can to kill that. To crush it, to stomp on it. To bully it out of my heart.

What choice do I have but to stand tall?

To stay rigid and fight back. To be brave, even though I’m feeling sick to my stomach. To tell him that I do, in fact, love him. I loved him and will love him, despite everything.

Despite his coldness, his cruelty, his abuse.

Despite the fact that he’s thrown me to the wolves once again.

As Ashley comes to the end of her introductions, Mr. Simmons, Mr. Brandt and whatnot, I wonder if Zach would still save me if I jumped into the pool like the other night.

Will he catch me or leave me to drown?

Finally, she re-introduces me to the love of my life. She waves a magnanimous hand at him. “And this, of course you know who this is. This is the guy you work for: Mr. Prince.”

He takes a drag of his cigarette before blowing it out of his soft lips.

“Yeah, I know who he is,” I say, looking at him but addressing Ashley.

To Zach, I say with my eyes, I know who you are. I know you’re better than this. You just won’t admit to it.

Before I can read his reaction, Samantha jumps in, “Is that your old school uniform?”

I look down at myself and realize, yeah, it could pass for it. White blouse and black skirt. Only the tie is missing.

Ashley chuckles. “Right? I thought so too. She seems to be… bursting out of it.”

Ah, the body jokes. It never ends.

“I happen to like the visual,” Rob says.

Chase repeats the same thing in different words and Alex sniggers.

In my peripheral vision, I see Zach coming off the wall. I’m not sure for what reason. It could hardly be to defend me, so I take matters into my own hands.

I turn to Rob. “Was that a compliment?”

“What do you think?” he replies, looking at my chest, smirking in an obnoxious way.

“I don’t know. I can’t decide whether to say thank you or knee you in the junk.”

The smile vanishes from his face.

I’m ready to head back after that, secure in the knowledge that they’re happy and content in humiliating me so they’ll leave me alone now.

But I guess they still have more in them. Because suddenly, I hear a slow puddle forming at my feet. I look up to find the source. Ashley is sneering at me as she pours down her drink on the floor.

“Oops. I’m clumsy, remember?” She shrugs with wide eyes.

“Yeah and bit of a one-trick pony, too.”

“It’s okay, Ash. I think we can have it cleaned up?” It’s Samantha’s turn to shrug and make her eyes bigger.

“Right? I mean, I’m sure it’s included in your job description?” Ashley adds.

I glance at her and then at the puddle at our feet. It’s spreading, touching my borrowed Mary Janes and Zach’s black leather shoes. Polished and crisp, like the rest of him.

Swallowing, I fish out a napkin from the small apron tied around my waist for just these emergencies.